Dragon Age II: Defiance
by Shadow Chaser
Summary: How do you pick up the pieces of a life shattered? How do you go back to what was once was? You don't. You learn, grow, and defy the expectations of everyone. Hawke and Anders on the run from the Chantry and the war. Not a pro-Anders story -Post DA2- [STATUS: ABANDONED]
1. The Storyteller & The Refugee

Dragon Age II: Defiance

By: Shadow Chaser

**Author's Notes:**

This will be a FemHawke/Anders story with a mage background. Carver was sent to the Grey Wardens and my Origins import had the Hero of Ferelden as a female Circle of Magi/Alistair pairing. Alistair also became the King of Ferelden by marrying Queen Anora. Fenris and Merrill were both rivals and I lost Isabela during the Qunari campaign. Sebastian vowed to find Anders and hunt him down after Hawke convinced him to be a part of the Chantry instead of retaking Starkhaven.

**Summary:**

Fleeing Kirkwall, Hawke and the rest of her companions seek refuge in Amaranthine and from there travel to Denerim for amnesty from the Templars through Hawke's distant familial connection to the Hero of Ferelden, Rinaran Amell. However, Denerim has its own problems as Orlais declares a renewed hostility towards the country for attempting to harbor the fugitives.

**Story:**

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_Prologue – The Storyteller_

"You're safe now," she stayed in the shadows, watching the dwarf brush himself down and look around from where he sat, or rather, had been thrown into sitting.

"So you did hear the whole thing then," he stared at his fingertips, his tone mild and disinterested, but she knew better.

"It was better to hear the whole story then to draw up my own conclusions based on the stories I heard before I even met her," she shrugged, "I am flattered that you kept my meeting with her in your retelling."

"You were part of one story so it was natural to include you in Hawke's story too," Varric Tethras shook his head before heaving himself up from the chair, "well, unless you have further questions or would like me to continue directing your...friend there to another direction, can I have Bianca back?"

This time she smiled as she stepped out of the shadows and tossed him his heavily modified crossbow, "She was kept safe. What will you do now?"

"Same thing you will be doing, well, in a different capacity. Help out my friend," he holstered his crossbow after giving it a quick once-over.

"If you do see her..." she trailed off, trying to suppress the hope in her voice.

"I got it, Nightingale," Varric tossed her a casual salute; "I'll let her know that you're keeping the Divine off of her back."

"And if you also see the Champion?"

"Are you sure it's the Champion you want me to send a message to or is it to Choir Boy?"

"Perhaps both," she smiled, "tell them that they go with the blessing and hopes of all who are free."

"Will do Seeker Leliana," the dwarf inclined his head once in a respectful nod before heading out of the main room that used to be the home of Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. The story was told, but the aftermath was another one that had yet to be finished.

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_Chapter 1 – The Refugee_

The rain was unnatural, a cause of Knight-Commander Meredith's insanity that ripped into the Veil and across the heavens. But even in its unnatural state, there was still some solace sought in it; that it would quench the fires that ripped across Kirkwall, saving most people. But this unnatural rain only served to diminish and dampen Marian Hawke's mood as she trudged through muddy ground near the base of the Sundermount. She looked up into the grey, stormy skies, her eyes blinking away the damp droplets before glancing back at the soggy party of people that were following her.

"We'll make camp here," she called out and silent nods answered her words. There was no visible sigh of relief, but she could feel it easily, especially from the pained look her younger brother Carver was giving her.

They all shuffled into a small cave, Aveline and her husband Donnic taking a torch Merrill had helpfully lit and went deeper in to make sure there was no immediate threats. Fenris had excused himself with a few polite gruff words to look for some kindling and perhaps an animal to eat for tonight's meal while Varric had asked Merrill to come over and check their supplies. Carver had gone to another corner and was shedding his heavy Grey Warden armor, leaving Anders the only one who hadn't volunteered or done anything.

She sighed, glancing back at the man who had been her lover for the past four years. The same man who had somewhat of a dual personality between him and a spirit of the Fade; and the man who had caused recent events to be so. "Anders..."

"I'll see if I can find a dry spot to start a fire," he murmured, not looking at her before wandering away, deliberately avoiding the others and giving everyone a wide berth.

Marian shook her head as she stared at Anders's back. She was angry, hurt, confused, her emotions a myriad of things she could not even describe. She still could not believe that he had the gall to deceive her, betray her, and then use her to blow up the Chantry just...a little over a day ago. But most of all, she could feel her own heart breaking each time she looked at him, yet somehow could not execute him after that horrific act.

It had cost her the friendship of Sebastian Vael, the Chantry priest to whom she had thought would be one of the more reasonable figures between the growing tension of the Mages and Templars in Kirkwall. He had vowed revenge against Anders and by extension her, for not killing him after what he had done. He had vowed to bring an army down upon him and to see that her "precious" Anders be brought to justice. Yet she still did not react to that, only feeling a resignation within her after he had left. She loved Anders, yet, hated him with such a passion for escalating the feud into a full-blown war.

And save for a few words, a plea for her to run away with him, to which she had agreed, Anders had said nothing else, silent during their escape from Kirkwall. She had not asked him nor engaged him in any conversation, not knowing if she would yell at him, curse him, or kill him. It was good for now, especially since the rest of her friends who had stood by her, had sent numerous death glares in his direction for his actions. She knew that they only tolerated him because of her, and they followed her because she had no other choice after siding with First Enchanter Orsino and the Mages in Kirkwall.

For the first time in a long time, she wanted nothing more than to go to a corner and scream her head off in frustration.

"Marian, we need to talk," Carver's voice startled her out of her thoughts and she turned to see her brother walking over to her, having sorted out his armor. Patches of dark spots clung to his undershirt where his armor hadn't protected it from the rain. Gauze was wrapped tightly around his shoulders, a wound courtesy of one of the statues in the Gallows that Meredith had conjured up during her rampage.

"Now?" she asked as she spotted Fenris re-entering the cave holding a bundle of kindle sticks and several hares. How the Elf had killed that many hares that quickly was beyond her, but she did not complain. She moved to the side as the Elf headed over to where Anders was, dropping his sticks and moving far away from the Mage as humanly possible, sitting himself next to Merrill of all people, and Varric.

The fact that Fenris was sitting next to the Dalish Elf who dabbled in blood magic was another sign that tensions were very high in the party. A jangle of armor clanking from the back of the cave made her look up to see Aveline and Donnic returning, the two of them carrying some more firewood before they situated themselves around the camp. Donnic immediately went to help Fenris skin the hares, the two of them having an odd relationship that she had overheard involved Donnic spending one day a week with the Tevinter Elf gambling in his mansion.

Aveline only reluctantly sat near Anders to help him with the firewood and even then, she noticed it was very reluctant. Out of the whole group, Marian knew that her dearest and longest friend was very affected by recent events, especially since she had declared Kirkwall to be her home. It was unbecoming of the Guard-Captain of Kirkwall to flee the city she had tried to protect.

"Yes now," Carver sounded a bit annoyed and Marian sighed.

"Fine," she closed her eyes briefly before following her brother to the cave entrance where their voices would hopefully be muffled by the thunderous rain. Behind her she heard the sounds of her friends starting to cook the hares and set up the rest of camp. She stared at her brother as he stood like a silent statue, staring out into the darkening sky, night falling. "Well?" she asked.

"What do you plan to do?" he finally asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I...haven't really thought that far-"

"I mean with _him_," her brother asked and Marian knew which 'him' he was talking about.

"If you're suggesting that I kill him-"

"What if I am?" he asked, finally turning to face her, his eyes hard, posture set.

"I won't kill him," she looked away, her voice quiet, "not after...not after all we've been through."

"He blew up the Chantry, sister, _the Chantry_," Carver replied, "even though you and I have had our disagreements, you know that this kind of act cannot be forgiven!"

"And I haven't forgiven him," she hissed back, her anger at Anders' action still hovering so close to the surface.

"Then why do you keep him around? Why is he alive?" he aborted his gesture to point at Anders lest the rest of the camp hear their argument.

"He's-" Marian abruptly shut her mouth as she glared at nothing in particular before staring at her brother, "it's none of your business!"

"It's my business, because I'm your brother!"

"Stop trying to protect me!" she realized what he was doing and gritted her teeth, "I never needed your lectures! I'm your _older_ sister, not Bethany!"

"Just like you protected mother?"

Marian barely had enough time to even register her own actions before she felt the stinging hurt on her palm as she slapped Carver across the face. It was only after she had done it that she realized what had happened and it seemed that Carver had also realized his words as the shock registered through his face before he looked apologetic.

"I, uh, I'm sorry," he looked down, "I shouldn't have said that..."

She shook her head before gently touching the red mark she had left on his face, "I'm sorry too..."

"No you're not," he gave her a slightly hesitant smile and she nodded once.

"Yeah, you're probably right," she accepted his apology before he rubbed the back of his head in an awkward attempt to smooth things out.

"Look, just...be careful, okay?" he said, "I...don't want you to get hurt, that's all."

"I'll be careful," she replied.

"Okay, so then," he cleared his throat, "have you thought about where you're going to go?"

"Not really," Marian shrugged, "I told Anders that I would...um...run away with him after all of this was over, but I guess, maybe where he wants to go?"

She saw Carver suppress the visible urge to go on what was probably another lecture regarding Anders before shaking his head, "Have you seen him? He's following you...well, rather aimlessly. I don't think he knows where he wants to go."

"Can't go to the Tevinter Imperium," she shook her head.

"Why not? They're probably cheering at his achievement for blowing up a Chantry," Carver could not keep the bitterness out of his tone, and Marian had to agree with him. The Tevinter Imperium would be the most likely place that she and Anders could flee to, but that would also doom some of her friends, one in particular, Fenris. She could leave Fenris and the others behind, but they had stuck by her all these years, she could not abandon them now, especially since she was responsible for their exiles from Kirkwall.

"Fenris," she gestured with her head back towards the ex-Tevinter slave. The smell of roasting hares was starting to fill the cave and spread towards them. "And we don't really know what their society is like. It's Mage-friendly, but it seems like they treat all others who don't have magic like second or even third-class citizens. I don't want that for you, or for anyone."

"I can take care of myself," Carver frowned, "I am still a Grey Warden."

"Does Warden-Lieutenant Stroud know you're here?" she asked.

"Um...not exactly," Carver shook his head, "I'm technically supposed to be on leave."

"Some leave," her attempt at some light humor made a small smile appear on her brother's face.

"What about going west to the other Marcher cities?"

"That's out of the question," she shook her head. She did not want to go anywhere near Starkhaven and crossing the plains of the Free Marches meant going near Starkhaven, even if towards Nevarra.

"I'm not even going to ask why," Carver saw the look on her face, "Orlais is out of the question and Antiva will probably be crawling with everyone who wants our bounties."

"You thought this out," she had a slight suspicious feeling about where her brother was going with this.

"Yeah...I kind of did," he admitted, "had a feeling that this was what was going to happen after we defeated Orsino. So I was thinking that we could maybe head to Denerim..."

"I am not putting King Alistair in the middle of this," she shook her head. She had only briefly met the King before everything went straight to hell, but from what she had heard about him and from meeting with him, he was a good King. A little odd at times, but a good man.

"No I mean maybe we could see the Warden-Commander," Carver quickly explained, "you know...our distant cousin?"

"You think that she would help us?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "but she's the Warden-Commander and Anders...didn't exactly leave on the best terms!"

"Yeah, but she knows him, maybe she'll be a little sympathetic?" he said.

"Why would you do this?" she asked.

"Because you need a safe haven to let the initial storm blow over and I can help," Carver replied, "because I want to do this for you, not for him, but for you."

"How do we know that our cousin won't hand him over to the Templars in Ferelden or put him on a ship back to Kirkwall? As far as we know, his phylactery could still be in the Circle Tower in Ferelden," Marian was worried, "or she could even just re-conscript him to the Wardens to answer for what he did."

"Listen, I got to meet her a couple of times and based on the stories I heard, one of her companions that traveled with her to stop the Blight was rumored to also house a spirit of the Fade within her. It's only a rumor, but maybe we can talk to this companion too?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"What other choice do we have right now? I don't know about you, but I don't really want to wander around the Marches forever, waiting for someone to come after us," Carver replied.

"You have a point," she sighed, running a hand through her short hair, pushing her bangs away for a moment, "let me talk to Anders about it tonight and I'll let you know tomorrow morning when we break camp, okay?"

"That's all I'm asking," Carver nodded, "and just know that even if you don't go, I'm not holding it against you. I'll follow you wherever you do decide to go."

"Thanks, little brother," she absently ruffled his hair and he ducked from her touch, giving her a frown.

"I'm not a little kid anymore!"

"Still my little brother though," she smiled as he shook his head and went back to the camp, leaving her at the mouth of the cave. She stared out into the gloomy darkness for a few minutes before turning back and joining the others. She hoped that Anders would consider Carver's proposal, and if he did, she hoped that the Warden-Commander would be able to help them. Otherwise, she did not know where she would go.

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Night had stretched into the fullness of the risen moon as Marian poked the embers of the smaller fire around camp with the point of her stave. She had taken the midnight watch, allowing the others to get some sleep. Carver had given her hints to talk to Anders after they had finished their meals as the others started a small game of cards, Fenris and Donnic winning most of the pot, though Varric was doing a good job at keeping up with them. She suspected the resident storyteller-merchant was cheating. But somehow could not make herself approach Anders and tell him of Carver's idea.

It was not that she did not want to talk to him, but it was more of the fact that she knew that if she opened her mouth, she may not even say what she meant to say and would say something else; something that she knew she would probably regret.

The sounds of night in the shadow of Sundermount echoed in the cave as she glanced over to the entrance, dimly lit by the moonlight. She had heard that after they had left in wake of Marethari's death, Merrill's clan had moved away from the mountain towards the northern plains of the Marches. She did not regret the harsh words she had spoken to Merrill after they had emerged from the caverns, but at least it was for the better that there was no chance the Dalish and Merrill would meet. She suspected that it was only out of the lingering respect Marethari had for her in taking Merrill under her wing that they had let them leave the encampment alive.

The glyphs and wards placed by the entrance and the other side of the cave they inhabited had not lit up indicating that no hostile creature was about to attack them. Anders had set those glyphs up before turning in for the night, diligently working on his task without a single word to anyone. She had pretended to be interested in the game the others were playing, but watched him go about his work.

She sighed, and poked hard at one of the embers, making it flare brightly before glancing over to where the Spirit Healer mage was sleeping and blinked in surprise to see his light brown eyes staring back at her, wide awake. "Did...um, I wake you?" it was the most words she realized, that she had spoken to him since they had left Kirkwall.

"No," he shook his head before pushing himself up from his bed roll and came and sat near her by the smaller fire. "Carver...said that I should talk to you."

"Carver," Marian rolled her eyes. Trust her brother to basically be as blunt as the giant claymore he usually carried around. Of course, that had started a minor showmanship between him and Fenris who carried a giant battle axe. It had taken most of her willpower and some head shaking from Aveline to refrain from antagonizing the two further as to who wielded the bigger sword. Of course, she could hear Isabela's phantom voice, still there even after the years since she had abruptly left her without even a single apology, comparing the weapon size to another part of the male anatomy.

"He didn't quite put it that politely though," Anders gave her a sad smile, his attempt at a joke to lighten the mood falling a bit flat.

She made no other comment other than to poke at another ember, making more sparks fly into the air.

"Marian, listen...I...know that you're angry with me-"

"More than angry," she muttered underneath her breath.

"This is why I wished you killed me back then. I was prepared to die," she heard him reply softly and glanced at him sharply.

"I told you that I would run away with you so why-"

"Nothing," he shook his head, "it's nothing...just ignore it. Justice, no Vengeance, is-"

"I thought you said the two of you are merged together," she raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"We are, and we aren't," he pursed his lips, "it's...complicated right now. What I said back then, is true, but it also isn't true in some respects."

Marian stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head and resumed her absent poking of the embers. It was a conversation that would have to be hashed out later, perhaps when they were truly alone, not amongst others in the camp. "I was thinking of going to Denerim."

"Denerim? But that's where King Alistair..."

"I'm not going to look for the King," she replied, "I want to find the Warden-Commander."

"But she...uh...that's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"You know that I did not leave the Wardens on good terms with them, right? I think the Warden-Commander would be furious with me if we went to find her."

"You never told me that she would be furious with you-"

"Yes, well," for the first time since he had blown up the Chantry, Marian saw a pained look pass through his features, "she was the one ordered that I not merge with Justice, saying that Justice's original host body, a fellow Warden named Kristoff would be suitable for the Fade spirit until he returned to the Fade itself. I...defied her orders."

"She knew something like this would happen?"

"I've always suspected that she knew something like this would happen," Anders shrugged, "never really got to ask her since, well, you know what happened. She had been one of the few friends I knew in the Tower in Ferelden before she had been recruited into the Wardens. She was one of the more promising students, even by First Enchanter Irving and very in touch with the more esoteric sides of the Fade and stuff like that."

"So what makes you think that it's not a good idea?"

"The Circle in Ferelden is one of the more scrutinized Circles right now, besides Kirkwall. When the Blight was happening one of the mages there Uldred, went completely crazy and tore the Veil in there. Even after it was fixed, the Chantry basically turned it into a second Kirkwall."

"So why does that relate to the Warden-Commander?"

"She hasn't done anything to try to free the mages in there! Not even after so many years!"

"Maybe because she's busy with her Warden duties?" Marian narrowed her eyes, "and I think that's Justice, Vengeance, not Anders talking."

"We're one and the same," he looked frustrated before rubbing his eyes, "sorry. It's...hard to keep him suppressed now, after what had happened. It's like rubbing a wound raw each day instead of letting it heal."

"It's our best chance, Anders," she said, "as much as the appeal of going to Tevinter is great, I'm not taking the chance to go near Starkhaven."

"You really think that...man would have an army ready by the time we reach the borders?"

"Yes," she stared at him, her gaze simple, "I do. And I believe he means it."

"Can't go to Orlais. Antiva would love to have our heads. I know you don't want to go to Rivain because of the mass amount of Qun converts there..." Anders looked resigned, "is going to Denerim really our only option?"

"For now, yes," Marian replied before finally giving him a serious look, "we can go anywhere after this, but right now, we need safety and shelter. We won't be able to find it by wandering the Marches."

"I'm sorry, you know," Anders said quietly, "sorry for ruining your life, asking you to promise to run away with me. I told you that I would break your heart-"

"Stop," she closed her eyes and shook her head, "just...stop."

The silence between them stretched before Anders stood up, "I'll take this watch, and check the glyphs and wards. You get some sleep."

She stared at him as he started to wander towards the entrance, "Anders..." He stopped, but didn't look at her. "If I find that you're gone when I wake up, I will personally track you down."

The ghost of an ironic smile flitted across his face, lit by the moonlight, "Of that I have no doubt, Hawke. Bird of prey indeed. Get some sleep."

She removed her stave from the embers of the fire and crawled into her bedroll. However, sleep did not come easily to her as she watched Anders work, his hands glowing slightly as he reinforced the glyphs around the entrance. The swirl of emotions still had not settled even with that conversation, yet she could not deny that a part of her wanted to follow him to the ends of the world, if not for her own sanity, but because there was no one else that truly understood what she was going through.

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to try to drift off to sleep and it was only after she felt him sit down near her bedroll to take up his watch that she allowed herself to fall asleep.

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**Author's Notes:**

This is definitely a reactionary piece to Anders' actions in Act 3 of the game and more or less my attempt at a continuation with what's happened. This is also definitely not a pro-Anders story since I will never condone what he had done, even if it was under the influence of Vengeance/Justice or his own twisted personality after the merging. However, this is also definitely not an anti-Anders story. It's more of a redemption story and both Hawke and Anders' attempt to find some modicum of peace in the midst of what is probably a terrible war. Next chapter will focus on the Hero of Ferelden to move the narrative along!


	2. The Warden Commander

Dragon Age II: Defiance

By: Shadow Chaser

**Author's Notes:**

This will be a FemHawke/Anders story with a mage background. Carver was sent to the Grey Wardens and my Origins import had the Hero of Ferelden as a female Circle of Magi/Alistair pairing. Alistair also became the King of Ferelden by marrying Queen Anora. Fenris and Merrill were both rivals and I lost Isabela during the Qunari campaign. Sebastian vowed to find Anders and hunt him down after Hawke convinced him to be a part of the Chantry instead of retaking Starkhaven.

**Story:**

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_Chapter 2 – The Warden-Commander_

Knight-Captain Hadley was a good man, Rinaran Amell had to admit, but sometimes, he was just a little too pushy for his own good. She had met the man around seven and a half years ago at the Circle of Magi, when she had been investigating rumors about Morrigan's reappearance. Hadley had been polite and kind to her, but otherwise a bit distant, much like most of the Templars save for Cullen and Knight-Commander Gregoir. It had only occurred to her later that the Knight-Captain was polite to her because she was the Warden-Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, otherwise, she probably would have been put in her place because she was still a mage.

She had recently returned from an extended campaign near Orzammar where King Harrowmount had only reluctantly asked for the Grey Wardens assistance in driving back a pocket of darkspawn that had suddenly breached the surface near Gherlen's Pass. A little bit of extra prodding and some gold had told her that it was not Harrowmount who had requested the "surfacers" to come and help, but rather one of his sons who had been long supportive of outsider help and influences.

She had returned to Denerim to find that Hadley had been sent with a group of Templars on orders from the Divine to question all magi living outside the Circle, including Grey Warden magi. She had learned that Alistair had only reluctantly allowed the Templars to question magi after trying to stall them for as long as humanly possible with every single law and decree he and his advisor Bann Teagan could find.

And it was Alistair who had pulled her to the side after she had returned to tell him that he had deferred the questioning of Warden magi to her decision. Which was why a few days later she now found herself in full Warden colors and armor, standing by Alistair's right hand side, a step down from his throne staring at Hadley.

"No?" the Templar looked a bit confused, if not appalled.

"No," she repeated, keeping her voice as mild as possible. She wanted to flat out drag it out as if talking to a simple child, but she knew that would probably make her King behind her attempt to cover his laughter with a coughing fit. She knew that whatever decision she made regarding this, it would be fully supported by Alistair.

However, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Queen Anora frown, her pretty full lips perpetually turned downward for the past several years now. A part of her still felt the swift satisfaction of annoying the Queen of Ferelden, but then again, it was an open secret in the court and perhaps everywhere that Anora was only Queen and wife in name. It was she, Rinaran Amell, whom Alistair called wife and took to bed.

Though she knew and even gave her consent for Alistair to occasionally bed Anora for the purposes of creating an heir, the woman had not even had a child in the years, making the rumors that had circulated during her first husband's rule come alive once more. The ironic thing was that while it was said to be nearly impossible for two Grey Wardens to conceive a child, Rinaran herself had given birth to a son just a few years ago. It had been easy to conceal the pregnancy, being the Warden-Commander and all; she was expected to travel a lot.

However, she and Alistair had never announced it at court, knowing that it would cause a political storm that would damage the fragility of Alistair and Anora's rule so the young boy had been given to Arl Eamon and Arlessa Isolde to raise. The Arlessa had been surprised, but extremely grateful to raise their son since Connor had been given to the Circle for training. She had also made sure that Anora knew nothing about their son, knowing that the woman would either send assassins to kill the boy or use him as a pawn in her never ending schemes to get rid of her.

She and Alistair visited their son several times a year and she made sure that her son knew who he was and his lineage. Teagan had kept them updated on a weekly basis about their son's progress and if he showed any signs of magic to which she had been worried about. However there seemed to be no sign that her son had any magic so she was grateful in that sense. She wanted her son to be as normal as possible and not live the life she had in the Circle.

Though it had been a good life and she had friends, she had always felt like she had been the First Enchanter's star pupil. She did not like the spotlight, preferring to be studying the books on the arcane or even practicing her staff fighting. She also did not like that she was confined to the Circle, not even allowed to wander around Lake Calenhad without Templar presence before she underwent her Harrowing.

At least Cullen occasionally allowed her to wander off on her own during those days, for which she was extremely grateful. She liked exploring and discovering new things. And in each of her explorations, she always made sure to bring a little something back for either her friends or even for Cullen just to say thank you. She knew that she should have realized her thank you presents to Cullen only served to increase his apparent crush on her, but then again, she had been a bit oblivious to the Templar's interest in her.

It was Jowan who had pointed it out not long before he had asked her to raid the phylactery and she had done the only thing she knew what to do, stare at her friend in confusion. Jowan and Lily had only laughed at her perplexed expression before telling her the stories of how Cullen had pined for her. When she had returned to the Circle as a Warden and with the ancient treaties, she had understood how broken the man was in seeing her after being tortured by Uldred. It was for the better that Gregoir had sent him to Kirkwall, away from everything Ferelden.

"But, surely you would understand that without the phylacteries, we cannot find out who is an apostate or even a maleficar-"

"That's why I ordered all phylacteries destroyed when Circle magi joined the Ferelden Wardens," she cut the Templar off; "they are all apostates if you wish to consider it. Phylacteries would only interfere in our duties."

"What if one of them becomes an abomination?" Hadley frowned and Rinaran narrowed her eyes.

The story of Anders' merging with Justice a month after defeating the Mother was well known amongst the Templars and the Wardens in Ferelden. It served as a cautionary tale to both factions of consorting with even the most benign spirits of the Fade. Hadley mentioning it raised her hackles. It had been years since she had last seen the rogue mage and she had no inclination of even searching out for him, a part of her knowing that he had probably fallen under someone's blade if not had gone completely mad by now. She had trusted Anders and thought that same measure of trust was extended when he joined the Wardens, but the mage and her former friend had once again proven her wrong by escaping what he probably thought was the confining life of a Grey Warden.

"The Ferelden Warden magi are under my protection and report to me. We take care of our own should any turn into abominations," she replied a bit testily. "The Circle still has my phylactery should anything be amiss, but you are not to question my Wardens."

She saw Hadley purse his lips and a pinched expression crossed his face as he stared at the other Grey Wardens in the court, some of them permanently assigned as part of the King's royal guard, others who had accompanied her. Some of them were magi and she saw the proud smiles upon their faces at her flat out denial.

In the days following the Archdemon's defeat and Weisshaupt's approval of her promotion to Warden-Commander, she had immediately begun recruiting a few of her friends and other magi from the Circles around Thedas. The condition she imposed in recruitment was that she be allowed access to their phylacteries and subsequently destroyed them when they successfully underwent the Joining. It wasn't an act of rebellion, but knowing about the Joining process, the blood of the magi would serve as too much of a temptation for them to be overwhelmed by the taint within them and resort to extreme blood magic means to accomplish their tasks. However, she knew that no matter her efforts, there would always be those who were in the Wardens to be maleficar.

She also did not want Templars to be able to hunt her magi down should they resort to blood magic to defeat the enemy. In that way it was a bit rebellious on her part, but only from a certain point of view. She left her own phylactery alone as an assurance to the Templars and knowing that the Chantry would never risk angering the Wardens by using her own phylactery against her. In the years since her promotion to Warden-Commander, she had learned more about the fine line of politics that she wielded as a Grey Warden against the other world-wide influences like the Chantry or even the kingdoms of other countries and principalities.

The Wardens were a military and police force unto their own, answerable only to the Commander of the Grey in Weisshaupt. She had learned even the Chantry had little to no power over the Wardens since they were essentially the ones who prevented Blights and using that, were even able to pressure the Chantry into overlooking certain things, including accepting maleficars into their ranks without fear or reprisals. Of course, the Chantry had taken that advantage to insist that the best and the brightest - _and_ some of their most ruthless - Templars be allowed into Grey Warden ranks.

The Divine had said that these Templars would be able to assist them in eradicating the remnant darkspawn. But Rinaran knew better; some of the Templars were there to keep an eye on the maleficar and the magi they considered apostates who did not originally belong to a Circle. That was why when one of the Templars had been accepted overriding her protests to Weisshaupt, she had learned that he had been specifically told by the Chantry to keep an eye on Anders before he decided to merge with Justice. After Anders had fled, she had steadfastly refused the Chantry's request to pursue him as an abomination, citing that they had bigger problems to contend with. In a way, it was her last act of friendship to the mage she thought had finally found a home to stay with.

So now, refusing Hadley request to question the magi under her command was her way of making sure that the Chantry did not exert too much influence over her Wardens.

"We believe that there are those who would conspire to overthrow the Chantry's guiding hand and create another Tevinter Imperium to subjugate those without magic as slaves," Hadley finally spoke up, "the Divine believes that this cannot be allowed to happen."

"And it will not," Rinaran held out a hand in a gesture of peace, "but questioning my own Wardens means to question all Wardens and the trust that each governing and religious body has placed in us. I can assure you that my Wardens are not the cause of such talks of rebellion."

"And can you assure that?" the Templar asked.

"Yes," she replied in a simple tone, "because..." She trailed off as two messengers burst into the throne room, one of the running towards Hadley to whisper furiously in his ear the other bowing slightly to Alistair before handing over a bound scroll with an unmarked seal. The rest of the court broke out in hushed murmurs and she saw Teagan and Anora leaning close to Alistair who was reading the scroll, a heavy frown growing on his face.

She wished she could read over his shoulder like she always did in private, but this was still a public court and she knew her place in such matters. Alistair abruptly rolled the scroll back up and held up a hand for silence in the throne room.

"I've just received some disturbing news from Kirkwall," he said before looking at Hadley and his Templars, "the Chantry has been destroyed and the Right of Annulment enacted within the city."

Rinaran looked at her King in shock. The Right of Annulment? It had been nearly enacted by Gregoir when the Circle had been overrun by Uldred's abominations, shades, and demons, but even then they had gotten things under control. There had been recent whispers over the past year or so that tensions were high between the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander in Kirkwall, but she had thought those whispers did not amount to anything. She had sent Nathaniel and a small group of Wardens to explore the passages of the forgotten thaig near the city, but even he had reported back that tensions were not as high as the rumors thought it to be, partially because of the Champion of Kirkwall's calming influence on both factions.

She had heard stories about the Champion of Kirkwall, about how she had defeated the Arishok that had gotten so fed up with the city's apparent debauchery and went on a rampage. And it was Stroud acting on source that he cared not to mention who said that it was the Champion who had discovered the forgotten ancient thaig. It was only after some private inquiries and the questioning of the recruit Stroud had found in the ancient thaig that she learned that the Champion of Kirkwall was named Marian Hawke and was apparently distantly related to her.

She had immediately ordered Stroud and the recruit, Hawke's younger brother Carver, not to mention a word of this to anyone. She did not know why she had done it so long ago, but something told her that it would not be prudent. But for the mediating peace that she had thought Hawke provided between the two factions... Even the Divine would not enact the Right of Annulment unless there was no hope. What had happened to force the Knight-Commander to take such drastic measures?

And what was this about the Chantry destroyed?

"My report is more...detailed Your Highness," Hadley cleared his throat politely, "It seemed that one of the rogue magi in the city disintegrated the Chantry building as a whole and all those within it. Knight-Commander Meredith enacted the Right of Annulment after the events."

There was an audible gasp in the court and some of the less fortified ladies fainted dead away but Rinaran stood her ground. A sudden swooping feeling of uneasiness filled her as she saw that Hadley was deliberately avoiding her eyes. The other Templars were not so inclined and most glared at her.

"You know who this rogue mage was; do you not Knight-Captain Hadley?" Anora spoke up, her imperious voice carrying across the hushed court.

"Yes," Hadley nodded once, "there is no dispute and it was witnessed by those who had the fortune of escaping the city before the rest of the Order closed the gates, but it was Anders, the former Grey Warden."

Rinaran's unease opened into a pit of horror.

* * *

The morning drizzle gave way to cloudy skies as Marian and her companions set out from their camp towards the south. She had told the others that they were ultimately headed to Denerim, but would take a ship to Amaranthine first to avoid any unwanted attention. The reactions of her companions were varied. Aveline looked a bit surprised and a little happy to be going to Denerim, while Donnic just nodded in agreement. She began to talk about the little things that she hoped were still in the city to her husband. Fenris seemed completely indifferent while Merrill had a hopeful look on her face and asked if they were to stop by the Brecilian forest any time soon.

Varric had taken it in stride, the storyteller-merchant saying he had no opinion, just a curiosity to see how this story was going to play out. Anders however, still looked uncomfortable with the prospect, but offered no other protest, instead, falling silent once more. Hawke suspected that he was probably thinking over what to say to his former Warden-Commander when they met.

They made their way south, dressed in the cloaks of pilgrims, though joining with a line of refugees who were making their way to the coast. Most of them were from Kirkwall and from the snippets of conversations they all overheard, it seemed that in the few days following Meredith and Orsino's defeat, Knight-Captain Cullen had taken command of the city and order was slowly being restored. However, it had also seemed that a majority of the magi who had not died in the initial wave of Templar attacks had fled, leaving the Circle all but empty. Most of the citizenry in Hightown and Lowtown had fled, some to other cities, others joining them on the pilgrim road. It seemed that the attack on the Chantry and destruction that followed when Meredith had announced the Right of Annulment it had all but scared the once hardy populace.

There were also whispers about her and stories that said she had died with Orsino, or had even killed Meredith and died trying to seal her in her stone prison. Others said that she had fled with the other magi to incite rebellion in the other Marcher cities. She wanted to throw her cloak off and reveal to them that she was standing there, but after noticing Templars randomly searching the road, decided it would be safer to not reveal who she was.

As they made their way down to the coast, where she hoped they would find passage to Amaranthine or even to Highever with whatever little coin she had left on her, they had managed to avoid most of the patrols. Carver was nearly caught in one, having been randomly pulled aside, but after showing his Grey Warden armor, and identifying himself, he had been let go with a curt apology before being waved along. It had hit her after that incident that she was now a wanted fugitive, an accomplice to Anders' actions. In that one act of siding with the magi, she had renounced her title as the Champion, her status as a noble, and everything she had spent the last nine years working for.

She had considered herself beyond petty, but she could not help but feel a twinge of jealous anger as she glanced at Anders' back. It was his fault for putting this upon her, for destroying her family name once more, like Gamlen had squandered away her mother's fortune. She now understood what her mother had been going through in the two years before she was able to buy their ancestral home back.

Speaking of Gamlen, she now glanced back towards the road that led away from Kirkwall; she hoped that her uncle had made it to safety and was perhaps even with his newly found daughter. She hoped that her dog, Barkspawn, was smart enough to find Gamlen and perhaps stay by his side. Their flight from Kirkwall had been so abrupt that she had left so many of her own mementos, relics, things that belonged to her mother even, at home. She had not even thought about Barkspawn when she had met Orsino in the gallows, only thinking that she was there to be a mediating influence between him and Meredith, not an outright war that Anders had decided was to start that day.

Looters would not hesitate to strip her house of its riches, especially since the stories told by the pilgrims on the road said that Cullen was still having trouble restoring order. She hoped that Bodahn had made it to safety, though Sandal was surprisingly and mysteriously at the inner gallows, and that Orana would have fled too. She hoped that in this time, Orana would have realized that she had only kept her as a "slave" because she knew the girl would have even a harder time traveling back to Tevinter to find the rest of her family without sufficient payment.

"Are you all right sister?" Carver whispered as they continued down the path.

"No," she replied, shaking her head, "I left so many of mother's things…"

"Oh," her brother opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, realizing that he could not say anything to her. She knew him too well that he would not say platitudes of comfort, not like Bethany would.

"It's stupid, you know," she continued, "feels like I'm so petty to think of materialistic things when…."

"It's not stupid, Hawke," Aveline gently cut in, walking next to her right side, "you had built your life there. It is right for you to mourn the things you have lost, including materialistic ones. You had made a name for yourself and it is not your fault for throwing it away." The implied statement that they had all made their own lives there was unspoken, but Marian also heard the definite jab at Anders who did not react to Aveline's comments.

However, she knew her lover very well, and knew that Aveline's words were cutting into him, reminding him of what he had done to make them all end up like this. Her words also clearly told Anders that the rest of the party, especially her, was following Hawke because they were loyal to her, not to him. She remembered the time when she had been obliviously helping Anders look for the materials that he needed in the Sundermout caves Fenris had pulled Anders over to the side after a particularly vicious battle against a nest of spiders. Heated words had been exchanged, but she had not caught them. It was only after they had escaped into the gallows following Meredith's grace period she had learned what Fenris had spoken to Anders that day.

He had told her that even though the two of them did not see eye to eye, especially with her support of the magi, he still considered her a good friend. He had then asked if her heart had been broken and she had replied that she was too busy trying to survive to even check her own heart. He had taken her answer with a stoic nod before telling her what he had told Anders: that if he had ever broken her heart, he would not hesitate to kill him. She remembered his cautionary warning when she and Anders had started to live together, but had dismissed them easily. Even Fenris to whom she had vitriolic conversations with from time to time, was following her because he was loyal to her.

She stared at Anders' back for a long second before looking sideways at Aveline. "Thank you." She did not have the heart to defend Anders, not even after their brief conversation the night before. She knew that if circumstances were different, she would have reprimanded her friend for such words or would have even dismissed them under some diplomatic solution.

"Andraste's petticoats," Varric suddenly spoke up, having taken point up front and the rest of them halted, as did a few of the pilgrims along the road as they approached a ridge.

"Holy shit," Carver was much blunter and Marian had to agree with her brother's use of words.

"Where are we going to find a ship with this many people?" Aveline breathed out quietly as they surveyed the mass of pilgrims, refugees, soldiers, even Templars who wanted no part of what was happening in Kirkwall. There were more than a few magi she recognized as part of Orsino's Circle.

All crowded around the beaches and rocky cliffs, all of them vying with ship captains at the small docks that were completely overwhelmed with people. There were distant dots and sails in the ocean, and Marian was taken aback at how eerily similar the scene was to when she, Carver, their mother, and Aveline had initially arrived in Gwaren.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," a very familiar lilt spun Marian around as she gripped the handle of her stave tightly.

"Isabela?" she could not keep the shock out of her voice as she stared at the woman who had once called her friend before leaving her to follow the Qunari relic, never to be seen again.

Voluptuous, curved, and still wearing nearly the same skimpy outfit she had been used to seeing on her, Isabela the swashbuckling pirate woman who always had a witty comeback, smiled at them impishly. "Good to see you again, Hawke."

* * *

"Anders?" King Alistair Theirin was unable to keep the surprise out of his tone as he stared at Hadley, the Templar Knight-Captain that had been sent from the Circle's Chantry. He risked a quick look at his wife, Rinaran Amell, only to see the blood drain out of her face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that his _Queen_, Anora Mac Tir, he never considered her his wife, had a very faintly smug look on her face. He would never fully understand the tiff between her and Rinaran, but his main concern was for Rinaran's well-being and the fact that Hadley said it was Anders who destroyed Kirkwall's Chantry had shocked even him.

Though it had been only less than two weeks since he had returned from his unofficial and secretive mission to Kirkwall, he had never told Rinaran who he had met there. He knew that she had considered Anders an old friend, and was even prepared to train him to take over the magi training all newly recruited Wardens had to go through in Vigil's Keep, before he had fled. He knew that she considered Anders a sore subject and so had vowed never to mention him to her if any scrap of information came up.

It also seemed like some of her other fellow Wardens, Nathaniel, and even Stroud had declined to mention their meetings with Anders in Kirkwall to her, only giving him their full reports to keep him appraised of the happenings within and outside his Ferelden. He hoped that by not mentioning Anders, it would protect Rinaran from feeling the pain and hurt to what she had associated with one of her greatest failures. But to hear from Hadley that it was the seemingly mild mage who blew up the Chantry.

What had happened in the week since he had met the Champion? "Knight-Captain Hadley, are you sure about this?" he brought Hadley and the rest of the Templars' gaze upon him. He had to take control of the situation before it got out of hand.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the Templar nodded once before gesturing to the messenger that had told him the news, "this is Kavan, one of the brothers who had survived the Chantry's destruction. He overheard the whole conversation between Knight-Commander Meredith, First Enchanter Orsino, and Anders."

"Will you give me your report, young man?" Alistair asked. He saw the young boy, no older than perhaps fifteen, look to Hadley before the older man nodded once.

"I was on an errand from Grand Cleric Elthina, to give a message to Knight-Commander Meredith. I saw her talking, well, yelling at the First Enchanter. The Champion was there too, Maker, she was like all the stories they tell of her," the young man had a slightly dreamy look on his face before he suddenly realized where he was and cleared his throat roughly. Alistair suppressed his own smile. The Champion was exotically pretty he had to admit, with her black hair, fair skin, and sharp crystal eyes. In fact, she looked a little like his own wife, Rinaran.

"I was glad that the Champion was there because the Grand Cleric wanted me to summon her too, but her servant Orana told me that she had already left. She was usually a good person to mediate between the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander. Her friends were there too, including the apostate Anders. He was scary," the young man's lips trembled once more, "and cut into their fight. He glowed too, as if possessed! I thought he summoned a spell or something like that. It was like a beautiful, but scary light, as if the Maker itself was calling down from the heavens."

The young apprentice priest took a deep breath before shaking his head, "The earth shook, and we all saw the Chantry disintegrate before our very eyes. The explosion ripped across the city, like stone had been burned by the very fires that molded it." He now stared at nothing in particular, "Screams, so many screams, people in fear, the wounded…the Knight Commander said that this was the work of the Circle, that it was the First Enchanter's fault. Anders said that there would be no compromise, there had to be war.

"I…I don't know what happened, but I heard swords drawn and ran to hide. There were spells, fighting, lots of blood, so much blood. Then…" Hadley stepped forward and placed a gloved hand on the young man's shoulder, silencing him.

Alistair nodded at the young man, "Thank you, Kavan. Are you in need of any aid we can provide?"

"The Chantry will take care of its own, Your Majesty," the Templar quickly said and Alistair frowned.

He was beginning to get really annoyed by the Templar. Ever since he had been stalling and waiting for Rinaran to return from Ozammar, the Templar had been nothing short of annoyingly polite. It almost made him want a reason to kick him out of Denerim, though he had a feeling that it would not go well with Senior Cleric Perpetua and Knight-Commander Tavish. Still stepping on the toes of the Knight-Captain was not wise, he had learned that much over the years of his rule of Ferelden.

"In light of this news, Your Majesty, we formally request that Warden-Commander Rinaran submit herself to questioning regarding ex-Warden Anders' actions," Hadley said and it was only then that Alistair realized the political trap he had led his wife into.

Hadley _had known_ of what had happened in Kirkwall and had only summoned Kavan for his report to coincide with the one he had gotten from Leliana with her unmarked seal. The Templars knew what they were doing when they arrived a few days ago to petition the questioning of Warden magi. They were specially looking for Rinaran and any evidence that she was linked to the apparent uprising in Kirkwall. He had been too oblivious and too untested to see the trap for what it was. Even Anora had warned him during the initial meeting that things were not right, but he had dismissed her claims.

The Templars believed that Rinaran was somehow at the heart of it, but they also realized that she was potentially one of the greatest threats to the Chantry's power in Ferelden, being both the Hero of Ferelden and the Warden-Commander, but most of all, a mage. They wanted to neutralize her as a threat…

That was something he could not allow, both as the King and as her husband.

"You will not-"

"I will submit myself to your questioning," Alistair froze as Rinaran stepped forward, the color back in her face, but her eyes hard as crystals. She did not look back at him, nor at any of her fellow Wardens, but instead stared at Hadley as if he was the only person in the throne room.

The first strike had been made.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

You can figure out for yourself what my Warden-Commander did in the game itself; I won't reiterate it for you in a paragraph. ^_^ Anyways, the only note I had was that I based the whole "wife vs queen" thing on the political machinations of another awesome sci-fi book series, _Dune_ where the main character Paul Atredies wedded Irulan, the daughter of the previous Emperor only in name to gain the throne. He considered his lover Chani as his real wife. Back to Hawke and Anders in the next chapter.


	3. The Duality

Dragon Age II: Defiance

By: Shadow Chaser

**Author's Notes:**

This will be a FemHawke/Anders story with a mage background. Carver was sent to the Grey Wardens and my Origins import had the Hero of Ferelden as a female Circle of Magi/Alistair pairing. Alistair also became the King of Ferelden by marrying Queen Anora. Fenris and Merrill were both rivals and I lost Isabela during the Qunari campaign. Sebastian vowed to find Anders and hunt him down after Hawke convinced him to be a part of the Chantry instead of retaking Starkhaven.

**Story:**

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* * *

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_Chapter 3 – The Duality_

Isabela's impish grin was still on her face as Marian allowed a genuine smile to appear on her own face. "Hello Hawke," she greeted them, "even those cloaks can't hide who you really are…"

"What gave me away?" Marian asked.

"Actually not you, but Bianca," she jabbed a thumb at Varric's crossbow, "I always knew that Varric would want to stick with you just to see what kinds of interesting things you get into."

"Aww, did you hear that Bianca, Isabela recognizes an old lover after so many years," Varric patted the crossbow and Marian resisted the urge to roll her eyes in exasperation. However, she did feel a little better at the sarcasm the two rogues exuded.

"At least she's a lover that doesn't age," the pirate grinned before turning back to her, "so, looking for passage?"

"Got a ship?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder to see if she could spot which one of the white sails would be Isabela's ship.

"Got one with that relic-" the older woman coughed awkwardly as she realized what she was about to say, "sorry about that Hawke, really, sorry."

Marian had not wanted to bring up any memories of what had happened so many years ago, especially of that horrific duel she had with the Arishok. So she instead shook her head, "Nothing a few bandages and a healing spell couldn't handle." The truth was farther from what she had experienced and noticing the others, Anders included, stiffening from her blasé response must have been a shocker.

"Ah, well," Isabela looked a little flustered before dropping her voice quietly, "over by the docks, there's a group of mercenaries that have the tattoos of kingfishers. They're my men. Tell them that I sent you with goods to be given at The Pearl and they'll take you to the ship."

"You're not coming with us?" Marian asked, curious.

"I've got a meeting with a few of my contacts. Shouldn't be long," the pirate winked at them before hurrying away.

"Looks like she hasn't changed after nine years," Carver commented, "at least there's a ship."

"A ship of lawless hoodlums more like it," Aveline groused.

"At least we have a way of getting to Amaranthine," Marian saw Aveline frown at her support of actually using Isabela's ship to get anywhere, but softened it slightly, telling her that she wasn't really angry at her. She took a deep breath and turned to the others and handed her little brother the bag of money she carried with her, "Carver, you, Aveline, and Donnic get some supplies we may need."

"Got it," Carver took the bag of coins.

Aveline nodded, "Donnic and I have some money if we find something that we need and yours don't cover it."

"Thank you," she was grateful for the support, "Fenris, Varric, can you look around, listen for any news?"

"No problem," the Elf inclined his head once and headed away, the dwarf heading the opposite direction.

"Merrill-"

"She can come with us," Aveline suddenly said and Marian saw her brother turn a bit pink in the face. Ah, so her little brother still had a crush on the Dalish elf. She nodded and watched with a slightly wiry smile on her face as Aveline gently steered the wide-eyed elf mage from them, leaving her and Anders alone as more pilgrims streamed passed them towards the makeshift harbor.

"Anders?"

"Are you sure about Isabela? The last time we saw her was her running after the person who supposedly had the relic and then just a note," he looked at her, his tone skeptical.

"If she did have the relic, you know me, I would have handed it over if it would have prevented so many deaths," Marian replied before starting down a small path, following behind a few pilgrims who were making their way towards the docks. She did not know what this small fishing village was called, but hoped that the inhabitants would be able to recover from the deluge of those fleeing from Kirkwall.

"Yes, I believe you would have," Anders replied, "but shouldn't you have told her about the Arishok?"

"What good would it have done?" she countered, arching an eyebrow, "telling her that 'oh by the way, I nearly died fighting the Qunari that wanted that relic you stole, which is your fault in the first place'." She shook her head, "She'll never understand it, she's very mercenary."

"And you forgive her, this easily?" he asked. She looked closely at him for a second before realizing what he meant by that question.

"No," Marian shook her head, drawing her cloak a bit closer to her, "but from her perspective, there is nothing to forgive."

"And mine?" Anders asked softly.

"You tell me," she did not want to have this conversation with him right now. However, just as she moved to hurry past an old woman, Anders' hand clamped on her wrist and pulled her from the crowd to a small alley between two houses. "Anders!"

"Please, tell me," he asked, his voice gentle and insistent.

She looked up at him and frowned, before staring out at the moving crowd, "I don't want to have this conversation right now-"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what to say to you!" she hissed, freeing her wrist from his grip.

"...Say to me?"

"Yes!" she glared at him, "I don't know whether or not I should hate you, or kiss you, or even kill you!" Marian felt tears pricking in the corners of her eyes and wiped at them irritably, "I don't cry easily, but just looking at you...each time..."

He stepped away from her and she looked at him, wondering what he was getting at. "Your heart's been broken..."

"...Yes...no, I don't know," Marian could feel the swirl of conflicting emotions within her, "I don't even know anything anymore."

"I'm sorry," he stared at her, his light brown eyes compassionate, "I know you probably won't believe me, probably thinking that it's a trick of Vengeance. I mean after all, we, I...manipulated you into finding those ingredients for me then even asked you to distract the Grand Cleric."

A bitter laugh nearly escaped her lips as she folded her arms across her chest.

"I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, follow me around like a fugitive," Anders clenched a hand into a fist, "it's not right. You had everything...and I didn't. I guess, maybe I'm jealous, I don't know. Maybe I thought that after all of this, after letting me live, you would want to come with me. Maybe it's the part of me that Vengeance hasn't consumed, the selfish, human part that wants...you...to come with me."

He looked up at her and shook his head, "Don't listen to me. I don't know if these are Vengeance's words trying to manipulate you again, maybe have you follow me around to do something worst..."

"How much worst can it get?" she asked, wiping an errant tear away.

The spirit healer laughed bitterly, "I could end up turning into a real Abomination and you could get hurt."

"And if I die in the process, would that solve anything?" she asked, "Would it expel Vengeance from your very being? Or would you see it as another sign that you must pursue the people that caused my death in the first place in some grand delusion that it was not your fault, but the fault of others?"

"No," Anders replied, "you know me very well..."

"Then you should know why I am following you," Marian shot back.

"Certainly not out of the goodness of your heart," he replied a little sarcastically, "yes, I see it now. Vengeance sees it now, but he..." He trailed off and she looked at him curiously.

"What?"

"It's as if he's been in a quiet slumber since I destroyed the Chantry. I still feel his anger, his influence on me, yet as if he's been sated somehow," the mage closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, "you should kill me before he gets the chance to manipulate my thoughts again."

"And why should _I_ be the one to kill you?" she countered, getting angry again.

"Because I can't do it," he looked at her, serious, "Vengeance won't let me. He drones on and on about how I should be freeing mages, how I should kill every single Templar and anyone who stands in my way, you included. I don't even have full control of my own body! I told you that it's like watching through another's eyes, watching someone control you at times, you can fight it sometimes, but it's been so long since we were joined that..." He rubbed the back of his neck, "I am such a weak man... I stopped fighting, sometimes, I...allowed concessions."

"Concessions?"

"I tried to keep you safe, by holding you at arms distance. But when you asked me those years ago, to stay with you," he looked away, "I thought, I hoped, I even prayed to the Maker that your door would be shut that night. I didn't want to get you involved."

"I knew what the risks were," Marian frowned, but she could still remember the day that she and Anders had slept together. Of all the times they had been with each other that one memory was still the starkest.

"I knew that Vengeance was growing stronger, since I met you nine years ago. So I made a deal, I guess, with myself, that Vengeance can use me any way he saw fit, but to make sure no harm came to you. That's why, you're the only one that can kill me," Anders turned to face her again.

"And if anyone else, say like Carver-"

"Or Fenris judging by the way he's been glaring at me."

"Or Fenris," she conceded, "tries to kill you..."

"I'll strike out at them," Anders said, his voice quiet, "and while I have no qualms about doing it, I know that it will hurt you."

"Yet Vengeance doesn't see it that way?"

"Apparently not," his voice became bitter again, "after what happened when I...he, asked you to help us find those ingredients."

Marian stared at her lover, the warring emotions within her growing stronger. She understood what he was saying, but could not help but feel a slight doubt at his words. Was this Vengeance or Anders trying to manipulate her again? The surest way was to kill him, but she knew that she could never bring herself to do it. And if it was true, was it what Anders really wanted her to do, knowing that she could not kill him? Or did he truly want to die? He had sounded so broken, so sorrowful in the aftermath the Chantry's destruction. She had been so ready to kill him then, lover or not. He had betrayed her trust by using her, something she could not forgive. Yet something stopped her hand from lifting the blade and she had wondered if it was her traitorous heart, a part of her still in love with Anders.

But since then, she had refused to kill him, even after his insistence, and she did not know why. And now he had told her why she could be the only one to slay him, because of some agreement made with the demon inside of him. Maker, she did not know what to do...

"Do you really want to die?" she finally asked.

"Yes and no," Anders smiled sadly, "because I know what I did was wrong, on so many levels, yet it felt so cathartic. There had to be change, and this was the only way I knew how to do it." He took a small step forward, but in the small alley that they had squeezed into there was no room to move and Marian suddenly wanted to shrink away from him. She saw the hurt in his eyes and tried to clamp down on the sorrow she felt, however, she froze as he extended his hand and brushed his fingers lightly against his cheek. "Please, do it now and you can be free of me. Find someone else, someone who will treat you right?"

"W-What happened to running away with me so our children will be free?" she asked, resisting the urge to lean against his touch like she had done so many times before.

"I have the taint of the Grey Wardens," he replied, "as far as I know, that's a pretty effective form of birth control. Or at least, I don't know any Grey Wardens that have had children after they underwent the Joining."

Marian realized what Anders was asking of her. Vengeance was sated, which meant that it was the most opportune time for her to strike before anything untoward could happen. He could not threaten her brother or her friends with the two of them alone in this alleyway. The comment about her running away with him after everything was over was the last ditch ploy from Anders to force Vengeance into accepting his plan. It was all so that she could kill him without threatening others, Orsino and the remnant Circle of Magi included.

But...

"I can't," she could feel her heart breaking again and it hurt, just as badly as it did two days ago...

"Marian..." the hand dropped from her cheek and Anders looked pained.

"Because I love you too much to do it," she finally confessed, "and because I hate you too much to do it."

"Why-"

"It's selfish, I know," she felt tears falling down her face, "call it selfish desires or something, but I can't kill you, even though I know what will eventually happen to you. I know that you're a monster, that what you did in a twisted way was what you thought was right. I know that Vengeance will always be a part of you because if he is banished back to the Fade, you'll only be a shell. And as much as I know you would want to live like that or even be dead, I still love you. And it hurts every time I see you."

"Then why..."

"Did I follow you?" she smiled through her tears, "because I believe that somewhere in the future, maybe you'll be able to calm the anger down and maybe, just maybe, turn Vengeance back into your old friend Justice."

"That's impossible-"

"It's only impossible if you think it is. I don't believe that," she straightened, wiping her tears away with the rough hem of her cloak, "I want to believe that there is still some good in you, the Anders that I fell in love with..."

"And if there is nothing to turn Vengeance back to Justice?" Anders asked softly, his gaze turned downwards, away from her.

This time, she stepped forward and tilted his chin up to look at her. "I will end it myself," she nodded once; "I will kill you myself."

"You would go through all of that just for me?"

"For our future," she replied.

"Maker's breath, why can't anything be easy," Anders gave her a hesitant smile, "all right, I'll accept those terms."

"That doesn't mean I forgive you," she looked at him with serious eyes, "but you at least now know why."

"I understand," he nodded, "and I am not looking for you to forgive me. But I hope that in time..."

"We shall see," she drew her cloak up around her face before peering out of the alleyway and gestured with her chin for him to follow her as they rejoined the traffic of refugees trying to find passage away from Kirkwall.

Anders fell in step beside her as they continued to make their way towards the far side of the fishing village. There were a lot of crews crowded around the docks, some negotiating prices with pilgrims and refugees, others staring warily out towards the vast amount of people. Some of them brandished their weapons to deter the crowd from rushing against them in an effort to reach the row boats and Marian saw one or two beating the bolder people back.

She ignored all of this as she tried to see anyone with a kingfisher tattoo and spotted a surly looking man standing by one of the houses, chewing on what looked like tobacco, occasionally spitting a wad of black spittle out. She approached him, making her intent obvious and saw him straighten as he caught her sharp gaze before he crossed his arms across his muscled and tanned chest and tilted his head to the side.

Marian noticed several others; all bearing tattoos of a kingfisher on their arms seemingly appear from the crowd to join the surly looking man. She all but ignored them as she stopped in front of the man and stared up at him.

"Pretty little thing to be wandering out like this," the man leered at her and Marian frowned.

"Your _Captain_," she stressed Isabela's rank, "told me to come with the goods for The Pearl."

"Did he?" the sailor asked, skeptical.

"She," Marian corrected, knowing that she was probably being tested.

"A female captain? Someone I'd probably would like to meet, if you get my drift. Of course, if you're looking to be my captain, you're more than welcomed to. I always like a woman to order me in bed," he leered at her again and Marian felt the sudden chill of magic behind her, a sign that Anders was getting a little more than angry at the insinuations.

"Yes and I'm quite sure that your captain would probably cut those balls off with her daggers," she allowed some of the magicks that was within her to filter into her being and features, magnified by her anger. She had been told time and time again that whenever she had been angry and cast her spells at the same time, her eyes took on an eerie glow, usually the frostiness of her ice spells or the crackle of barely suppressed electricity. She had been told by a very impressed Varric that her newer spells in the Force class made her seemingly blaze with unconsumed raw power.

The effect was immediate as the surly leering sailor suddenly recoiled before hastily putting his hands up, "Didn't mean any disrespect, serrah."

"You knew what Captain Isabela wanted," she continued, the spell of Winter's Grasp just hovering at the edge of her consciousness to be thrown, freezing the sailor in place, but she managed to suppress that ruthless part of her. Her father had longed warned her that the more she used her spells, the more she would feel its power and those that got drunk on the power were the ones to fall prey to the spirits of the Fade.

"She said we might be picking up some people here, just didn't realize that it would be, well, your kind."

"Our kind?" Anders spoke up behind her, his voice tight with anger.

"Well, I mean with all that's happening in Kirkwall," the sailor shrugged, "name's Rawlins, First Mate on the _Kingfisher_. The Captain said she was going to talk with her contacts about a job we were supposed to be paid for and we were supposed to see if there was any cargo we could find. This being a fishing village didn't really think there would be anything, but when we saw all of you...figured we could get the pickings. Didn't really trust that you had the Captain's password, that's all. Didn't mean no harm by the comment about you and the, uh, being in bed and all."

Marian softened her stance and let the magic retreat, the tingling feeling fading away before nodding once, "No harm done. Just see that it doesn't happen again."

"Will do, serrah," Rawlins gave her a gaped tooth grin, "so, will it just be you and pretty boy behind you?"

"Pretty boy?" Anders had lost the anger in his voice and Marian turned slightly to see him staring at the beefy sailor, appalled.

"Pretty enough," the sailor shrugged, "unless you don't-"

"Oh definitely not," the seriousness of the moment was broken with a blush rising from Anders' neck to his face as the implied statement hit him.

"There are six others, three humans, two elves, and a dwarf," she turned Rawlins' attention back to her, "they're getting supplies so if we can wait for them...?"

"I'm also presuming that you don't want any Templar trouble, right?"

It was the way he worded the statement that made her turn slightly to see several Templars that had been milling about now actively looking for something. She realized that her initial assessment that these were Templars who wanted nothing to do with the happenings in Kirkwall were actually Templars loyal to Meredith, sent out before the climatic battle to capture or even kill the magi who had fled from Kirkwall's Circle.

The original people she thought were magi were actually Tranquil, and thus were left alone by the Templars. She glanced at Anders who had a pinched and angry expression on his face and at once knew that Vengeance was now influencing his behavior. They had to hide...this was not the place to get innocents involved in a giant spell-slinging battle, no matter how much Anders wanted to, judging by how he was slowly reaching for his stave.

"Anders, no," she shook her head before taking his hand and started to pull him the other way. She nodding her thanks to Isabela's First Mate before heading to one of the houses near where the sailors had been hanging out and pulled him into the alleyway.

"Marian-"

"No," she hissed quietly, "we can't make a scene here. You want to start a new life, away from all of this, then you can't attack every Templar on sight!"

"I don't want a new life! All the Templars should know that magi should be free!"

"That's Vengeance talking! Not Anders!" she glared at him.

"That's how I feel-"

She resisted the urge to punch him in the face, "Stop thinking of yourself for once and think of others! There are those who fled the city because they want nothing to do with the Mage and Templar conflict! They don't care-"

"They should care."

"And they have the right not to!" she overrode his protest. "Are you that bent on killing even more innocents?"

"There are no innocents in this war," he glared darkly at her, and she saw the brief flickers of blue in his brown eyes that signified Vengeance was very close to completely overwhelming Anders and taking over once more.

A scream from the street interrupted their fight as she peered out to see a woman being held back by several Templars as two of them wrestled what looked like her daughter to the ground, shoving her face into the dirt. "Please!" the woman cried, "my daughter isn't a mage! She isn't even part of Kirkwall! We're from Nevarra! We were only passing by-"

"She is an apostate and will be put to death-"

Marian was roughly shoved to the side of the alleyway as Anders barreled past her dropping his cloak, the power of the Fade nearly overwhelming her as it did every time Vengeance's full anger was unleashed.

"She will not be put to death!" Vengeance declared in all of his unholy glory.

Marian shook her head before shedding her own cloak and stood behind Vengeance, her stave held in a ready stance. She said that she would follow Anders wherever he went and she was not going to abandon him now.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

My beta pointed out that Anders said that he and Vengeance were one and the same. Of course, along the same lines, I pointed out that during the romance he said that he and Vengeance were sort of separate ("Vengeance does not approve of me with you Hawke…") and so forth. So who do you believe and which explanation do you believe? That was the importance of this chapter and I hope it came across as such. The rest of this story will focus more on Hawke and Anders than the Hero of Ferelden (I needed the previous chapter to set up the political happenings in King Alistair's court). Thank you for reviewing and adding me to your alerts, etc. You make me a very happy writer!


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